


Careful

by AnxiousZucchini



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: (in terms of a use of death defiance), Bottom Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Temporary Character Death, Top Thanatos (Hades Video Game), this was supposed to be a crackfic but feelings happened
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29640603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiousZucchini/pseuds/AnxiousZucchini
Summary: “Did I wear you out that much?”Maybe, he thought honestly. Maybe it was more of an emotional release than he thought, or something about the position had knocked the air right out of him. He still felt so weak -- less that he didn’t want to move, which was normal post-orgasm behaviour for him, and more like he couldn’t. His ears were ringing, almost drowning out the erratic stutter of his heart. It was a familiar feeling, but he couldn’t bridge the connection between what he had experienced before and what he was experiencing now until his vision began to tunnel.“Shit.”___Or:  It takes significantly more than a kiss to kill a man.
Relationships: Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 126





	1. "Kiss" of Death

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT (25/02/2021): I've renamed the fic (previously "'Kiss' of Death") because I decided I'm not done with it yet. I'm almost done with chapter two, and it only gets angstier from here, because my brain hears "crackfic" and decides that means "h/c with lots of hurt." I'll update the description eventually. Each chapter will have warnings at the beginning.
> 
> I haven't even started the epilogue in Hades yet, and I only just gave Thanatos his last ambrosia. So obviously I haven't exhausted all of his dialogue and have no idea if he ever brings up the Death Defiance thing, but this idea wouldn't leave my brain. So please enjoy this affront to commas and em dashes.
> 
> CW: This fic starts mid-coitus, but everything is non-explicit (i.e., no genitals mentioned, but jizz is, vaguely). Thanatos has an anxiety attack, but the fic isn't from his POV, and no typical symptoms are described except "panic." Unbeta-ed. Vague spoilers for Zag's motive for escaping.

Zagreus was hyperaware of the fact that he still had not paid the house contractor to install doors to his bedchambers. He was as shameless as always, but the facts that he knew noise travelled into the hall -- based on Orpheus’s comments on his practise with the lyre -- and that the woman who raised both himself and his lover typically stood right outside . . . well, to put it frankly, they’ve been careful.

Zagreus could not help the little yelp he let out when Thanatos dragged him into a better position, however. He would still deny it with his dying breath -- and the next hundred after.

“Fuck, Than,” he breathed, reaching up with one hand to cup Thanatos’s face. He felt weak, like his limbs were made of lead, like his head was stuffed with wool, like he could barely catch his breath to make a single noise, which served them well for their purposes, he supposed, but was almost frightening on some level. He had been assured that this was what love felt like sometimes. He found no comfort in that assurance.

Thanatos’s rhythm did not falter as he turned his head to kiss Zagreus’s palm. Amazing how he could still make the prince swoon as he pushed his pleasure higher one sharp thrust at a time. Thanatos was always so careful with him, but it would be a mistake to interpret _careful_ as _gentle_ . It was the juxtaposition of dragging his nails across his scalp just before grabbing a handful of hair and _pulling_ , or kissing him slow and sweet in the meadows of Asphodel before biting his lip and poofing away, that made Zagreus fall deeper and deeper for him each time.

Zagreus didn’t have time to wax poetic about Thanatos in his own head, or really have a single firing brain cell at all, because Thanatos pushed his legs carefully higher -- carefully, not gently, said the burning in his hips at the stretch -- and that was it, that was the money shot that had Zagreus biting down on the heel of his own hand to muffle any noise he might have made.

It was less like falling off a cliff and more like slowly cresting over a hill with just enough momentum to get him to stall at the top.

Maybe he did have the wherewithal to wax poetic after all. Room for improvement, then.

The come-down followed the analogy quite well -- feeling Thanatos spill inside him, biting down on his neck, sent a shiver of pleasure through Zagreus’s entire body that too quickly spiralled into overstimulation. He gently -- truly gently -- urged Thanatos’s head away from his neck to kiss him lazily, grinning against each other.

They’d been together, sure. And don’t get him wrong, it was great each time, but it wasn’t this. It was always so rushed, a stolen moment to tease each other after one of their competitions, hurried orgasms in his chambers, still mostly dressed, before Thanatos had to leave. This, now, having the time to not only undress each other but explore with hands and mouths, trying to discover what they truly liked -- and having Thanatos inside him, as close as two beings could possibly be? Zagreus finally understood why mortals put such stock in love and lust alike. If he could have stayed like that forever, he would, and not just to prevent the discomfort of Thanatos pulling out of him.

“Sorry,” Thanatos responded to Zagreus’s small hiss, not sounding sorry at all as he laid beside him.

Zagrus opened his mouth to say something, probably something extremely witty, if he had to guess, but he couldn’t seem to get his lungs to work.

“Did I wear you out that much?”

 _Maybe_ , he thought honestly. Maybe it was more of an emotional release than he thought, or something about the position had knocked the air right out of him. He still felt so weak -- less that he didn’t _want_ to move, which was normal post-orgasm behaviour for him, and more like he _couldn’t_. His ears were ringing, almost drowning out the erratic stutter of his heart. It was a familiar feeling, but he couldn’t bridge the connection between what he had experienced before and what he was experiencing now until his vision began to tunnel.

“Shit.” Zagreus barely managed to make a sound, but either Thanatos heard him anyway or sensed that something was wrong, as the last thing he saw was his concerned frown.

“Zag?” he called, sounding as though he was underwater. “ _Zagreus_ , what’s wrong?”

Oh, poor Thanatos, Zagreus thought, half serious but half in amusement. He’d never seen this happen himself, had he? Well, there was nothing he could do to explain now.

His father had asked him before how he did it, how he kept fighting with renewed vigor when he was clearly so close to death. Zagreus had given him some vague answer along the lines of “I don’t know, but it must have something to do with whatever Nyx did to me as a baby.” The truth of the matter was that he just refused. Cold rivulets of the Styx wrapped around his soul, threatening to take him, and he said _no, thank you_. It was a simple enough act of willpower, but it had taken a lot of time to learn, and each time he did it left him more exhausted than the last. There were things that made it easier -- gifts from Skelly and Patroclus, a product Charon offered -- but there was still a limit to how many times in one run he could politely shove off his own death.

Thanatos’s clear concern certainly made it easier this time.

Just as he felt the chill of the Styx deep inside his chest, time seemed to freeze. Zagreus had never seen anyone else do this, so he didn’t know what it looked like from an outside perspective. He didn’t know that time did slow to a stop for the briefest moment, or that a small halo of light burst around him.

What he knew was that it was less of a fight to claw his way back to life this time. He came back to consciousness laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

Thanatos was not a terribly expressive person, but his eyes were wide and lips parted in surprise and concern bordering on panic.

“What just . . . _what_?”

“The kiss of death might not be a thing,” Zagreus said, still laughing, “But it seems a little more does the trick. Should I be concerned?”

Thanatos clearly didn’t find it as funny as he did. “Blood and -- you _died_ , Zagreus. I killed you.”

Zagreus reached out to rest his hand on Thanatos’s arm, hopefully a reassuring gesture as he tried to calm his breathing. “It was an accident, Than. I promise you, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m not hurt.” He neglected to mention that he wasn’t exactly feeling great, but that was par for the course. “And now we know to use protection. Or, y’know, I have another two of those in me yet, five or six with the right -- “

“Two of _what_ ? What just _happened_?”

And no, yeah, that was definitely panic now. Zagreus sat up fully and held Thanatos’s face in both hands as if to keep him here -- both physically and mentally. Thanatos had a habit of disappearing at the least convenient times.

Rather than trying to sooth his worries, since he didn’t exactly know what those were, Zagreus did his best to explain. “I don’t know exactly what it is. It’s just something I can do when I’m about to die, like a second wind. I just kind of will myself to keep going. I wouldn’t have gotten out of here at all without it.”

“So, what, you just . . . defy death on a daily basis?”

“Yes. Well, sort of. Not like capital-D Death, obviously. It’s not like you or the keres can claim me down here.”

“Zagreus,” Thanatos sighed, taking Zagreus’s wrists in both of his own and pulling them down. “You can’t just test the Fates like it’s nothing.”

“I wouldn’t be able to do this at all without the Fates, right? I wouldn’t even be alive without them and Nyx. And maybe Achilles is right after all, you know? Maybe I am the god of blood and this is just something I can do because of it.”

“That’s not -- you can’t just -- _ugh_.”

Thanatos still had Zagreus’s wrists bound, apparently unaware of how hard he was holding on. Zagreus didn’t even try to pull out of his grasp and just brought his arms forward so he could kiss his grip-white knuckles. “This isn’t like you, Than. What’s wrong?”

Thanatos managed a dry, humourless laugh, grating compared to the genuine one Zagreus cherished. “What’s wrong? That’s . . . a complicated question.”

“Try me. Please. I hate to see you so worried.”

It was a long, tense moment before Thanatos spoke again. His voice was soft, almost scared if one knew what to look for, and he refused to meet Zagreus’s eyes. “There are things I haven’t told you,” he admitted. “Nothing you’d take poorly, I hope, and you may already know. I will tell you someday, but not today. Please forgive me that.” He paused, and Zagreus almost spoke over him, but Thanatos just cleared his throat -- something he had never had to do before in his immortal life and a noise that was jarring to both of them -- and continued, slightly more confidently. “Suffice it to say that I’m unsettled by . . . well, all of this. Learning that you have this ability and that I’m apparently fatal to you.”

“That part’s not a big deal,” Zagreus assured. “There’s stuff we can do to alleviate some of the risk. I think bottling up the water of one of those mandragora pools in the temple might work.”

“I’m poisonous. Great.”

“And if it helps, the fact that you could end me so easily in so many ways is kind of hot.”

That, at least, startled a small exhale of air out of Thanatos, a genuine laugh that made Zagreus smile in turn.

“And it doesn’t hurt or anything,” he continued. “Truth be told, It’s kind of . . . well, peaceful. Definitely one of the better ways I’ve gone.”

“One of?” Thanatos sounded like he didn’t exactly want an elaboration but couldn’t help but ask.

“Well, it’s not quick, so I don’t know if it beats out being crushed by a big rock or something, but being painless means it definitely ranks higher than actual poison. And being slow and painless is kind of a perk, in this case.”

Thanatos nodded, apparently seriously considering his words, which was more than Zagreus expected, to be honest.

“Zag, I . . . “ he finally met Zagreus’s eyes as he trailed off. There was conflict there, vaguely familiar from when they were first trying to define their relationship, but still very different. Zagreus couldn’t put his finger on it.

Instead of continuing the thought, Thanatos’s shoulders slumped minutely, a facsimile of defeat, and he finally let go of Zagreus’s hands. “I have to go. I’m not running away from this, you understand. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Zagreus had exactly one regret regarding his relationship with Thanatos -- pre-confession mistakes notwithstanding -- and that was his work. Not that it wasn’t important, vital even, but this war ensured that their time together was fleeting and limited.

“Duty calls?”

“As always.”

Thanatos leaned in for a quick, chaste kiss before dressing himself with an efficiency that Zagreus loved watching just as much as he loved seeing it happen in reverse.

“Like what you see?” Thanatos teased. A good sign, even if it felt half-hearted.

“Always,” Zagreus answered.

A playful scoff, a “See you soon, Zag,” and a puff of smoke, and Thanatos was gone.

“I love you,” he said to the dead air, as he’d found was so much easier than saying it to his lover’s face.

He didn’t linger long before hopping out of bed and hunting down his own clothing. He had questions to ask, answers to get. Starting with Nyx.


	2. Secondhand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persephone actually laughed, immediately covering her mouth in apology, but she still shook with mirth. “I’m so sorry, my son. It isn’t funny.”
> 
> “I’m not following.”
> 
> “Let me ask you this: Would you call your deaths on the surface peaceful?”
> 
> \---
> 
> Or: Zagreus still doesn't have the full story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all want 4k of npc interaction? how about turning my headcanons into plot points?
> 
> CW: Spoilers for basically the whole main story. Vague reference to (canon) infant death. Canon temporary character death. At one point, Zag literally begs to be killed, but he's not suicidal, just kinda stupid. Unbetaed.

Thanatos was a man of his word, of course. The next time Zagreus ran into him was during his very next escape attempt, in Elysium. Considering he had lept out of the window the moment he was clean and clothed to fight his problems away, Zagreus was more than a little surprised.

“Than!” he exclaimed the moment that familiar cloud poofed into existence. Thanatos didn’t greet him except to offer one of his small smiles, which Zagreus treasured more than any standard hello anyway. At the very least, he seemed more relaxed than when they parted last, and actually met his eyes this time.

Zagreus willed himself to be careful, even if it meant losing. His competitive streak was strong, to be sure -- he still brought up the few times Thanatos got no kills against him, a narrative Orpheus seemed to enjoy immensely -- but he was already pretty badly beaten up, the selection of boons he’d received less potent than what he was used to. Combined with his usual recklessness with the Twin Fists, there was a very real chance he wouldn’t survive this fight, especially when he saw Greatshields being summoned into the room. He hadn’t had to stave off the Styx yet this run, but he wanted to spare Thanatos the sight, just in case it scared him off.

All that said, it was typically easy to win their little competition in Elysium. Thanatos was nice enough to count both Exalteds and their runaway souls as separate kills -- no doubt out of pity at first, but the house rule stayed, and Zagreus wasn’t about to argue. He was careful, but he still managed to win.

“Sixteen,” Thanatos said softly as the last Flamewheel rammed itself into marble and Zagreus began to close the distance between them.

“I wasn’t counting.”

He scoffed, but there was no heat behind it. It didn’t sound particularly playful, either. In fact, by the look on Thanatos’s face and the way he was staring off to the side somewhere, it seemed his mind was occupied elsewhere entirely.

“There’s no point in these contests if you don’t keep score.”

Zagreus finally closed the distance between them, throwing the Twin Fists to the ground, reaching out before hesitating and thinking better of it. He kept his eyes on Thanatos’s face, even if he wouldn’t meet his gaze. His expression was carefully neutral.

“Than, about this morning -- last night? -- earlier.”

“I know I promised you answers, but I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“No, that’s not what I . . . I just wanted to apologize. I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late, and then I just laughed about it because it seemed ridiculous to me. I didn’t consider . . . you were right to be worried. I’m sorry.” Gods, that came out all wrong, but as sociable as he liked to think he was, words weren’t his strong suit. Then again, neither were actions. He had exactly one trick up his sleeve, and Thanatos had steadfastly refused to accept another bottle of nectar or ambrosia, not that it would have helped here.

“You have no need to apologize. Neither of us knew what would happen.”

Thanatos’s voice was startlingly quiet, stained with an emotion Zagreus couldn’t quite identify. Guilt, maybe? It was the closest he could come up with, at least.

This time, when he reached out to pull Thanatos down to his level, Thanatos snatched his hands from the air with both of his own before they could reach him, staring down at them with a frown.

“You’re bruised,” he pointed out with concern and more than a little confusion. Zagreus just nodded. “What did this?”

He contemplated lying for a moment, but even the thought left a bad taste in his mouth. What shade would have grabbed him like this, anyway? Save, perhaps, a Wringer, but even that seemed far fetched.

“Um,” Zagreus started tentatively. “You did. Earlier. It’s nothing, Than, I -- “

Thanatos’s eyes shot up to meet his, as if expecting -- or perhaps hoping -- to find that he was lying. He turned Zagreus’s hands palms-up and grimaced at the four crescent moon marks there from his fingernails.

“Zagreus . . . “

“I promise you, it’s nothing.” His desperation was obvious even to his own ears. He couldn’t stand to see that look on Thanatos’s face, and to hear him breath his name like that? To hear his full name from Thanatos at all rarely heralded anything good. “It’s just a bruise. You know how easily I get hurt. It’s that mortal part of me -- “

“I . . . I have to go.” Thanatos dropped his hands like they were on fire, taking several stumbling steps back as if forgetting in his hurry that he didn’t need to step at all.

“Wait, Than, don’t -- !” Zagreus followed, of course, but by the time he caught up, he found himself walking straight into smoke. He growled in frustration and kicked whatever was closest to him -- an urn, apparently, which shattered and left obol in the grass.

It seemed whether he tried to put words together or just kept his mouth shut, he always made a fool of himself at best, and hurt the people he loved at worst. The bruises on his wrists truly didn’t bother him. If they had been made in the heat of passion, he would be wearing them with pride. As they were, they were less of a reminder that Thanatos had unintentionally hurt him and more that he had hurt Thanatos somehow. And he still didn’t know why or, more to the point, how to help him.

Thanatos was a solitary person by nature. He usually preferred to be alone, and Zagreus considered it the highest blessing that they spent so much of their limited free time together. But maybe that was what Thanatos needed -- the time and space to be alone. It felt so wrong to leave him to his own devices when he was clearly hurting, but Zagreus had no room to talk on that point.

He took a deep breath to try and regain his composure. It wasn’t effective in the least, but he retrieved the Twin Fists from where he’d thrown them on the ground, considering his options less carefully than he usually would have before charging into the next room.

\-----

It had been a long time since he’d been beaten up like this. It almost felt nostalgic. Asterius had already knocked him down once, and although Zagreus had been willing to sink into the Styx as it tried to claim him, it backed off anyway. The noise he made in response was almost feral. He threw his weapon to the side and raised his fists, fully prepared to go in swinging. It would be more satisfying to hit something with his hands truly bare anyway.

Asterius halted in his charge, skidding to a stop a good distance away.

“What are you doing?” Zagreus demanded. “Don’t start going easy on me now.”

“I could ask the same question of you. Why have you discarded your weapon?”

“Well, you made that comment about me fighting you barehanded, and it sounded like  _ such _ a good idea.”

Asterius lowered his axe, tilting his head to the side. Zagreus didn’t like comparing him to an animal -- Minotaur or not, he was still a person first and foremost -- but the gesture was eerily similar to something he’d see on Cerberus.

“You intend to die here, don’t you, short one?”

“Well, seeing as you’ve never beaten me one-on-one like this, I thought I’d give you the satisfaction.”

Asterius snorted. Good. Hopefully he’d want to take that irritation out on him.

“I yield.”

Zagreus’s face fell. “What? We’ve only just started!”

“It would not be a fair fight without your weapon. And you would still be at a severe disadvantage if I were to discard mine.”

“Blood and  _ darkness _ ,” he swore. “Just kill me so I can go home!”

Asterius considered him seriously, staring at Zagreus for such a length of time that a small amount of his restless frustration burned away into unease. He’d thought these fights that Asterius sought out would be the best way to get back to the House, and quickly. He should have guessed that he was too honourable to kill an adversary that wasn’t even really fighting back. Should have just let an Exalted do it.

“This behaviour is unlike you, short one. I confess I do not know what to make of your request.”

“What’s to make of it? I need you to fight me and win so I can get home as soon as possible.”

“Why the hurry? You have not completed your objective.”

“Because I’m  _ needed there _ !” At least, he hoped so. He wouldn’t blame Thanatos if he didn’t want to hang around the House waiting for him after their conversation. But even if Zagreus had been right and he needed to be alone, he couldn’t take the risk of not being there this one time when Thanatos was always at his literal beck and call.

That was an idea. He hadn’t used Mort once yet, but he wouldn’t drag Thanatos here right now, not so soon after he fled. If it comes down to a matter of days or weeks, though . . . 

“It must be urgent for you to abandon your mission, but I will not ask about your personal matters.” Asterius took a deep, heaving breath before picking up his axe once more. “It does not sit well with my conscience to continue fighting you. However, if you are requesting death, I will grant you that.”

Relieved, Zagreus grabbed the Twin Fists, just to be sure they came back with him, and stood as still as possible as Asterius brought his own weapon down.

\-----

He groaned as he emerged from the river and into the House. His head was splitting -- which, yeah, fair enough. He hadn’t specified  _ how _ Asterius should have killed him, but he at least made it quick. The phantom pain would fade quickly. He had more important matters to attend to.

“Woah, the Bull of Minos again?” Hypnos exclaimed. “It’s been a  _ while _ since he got the best of you!”

“Listen, Hypnos, sorry to cut you off, but it’s important. Have you seen Thanatos around?”

“Can’t say I have! Why?”

Despite expecting that exact answer, it made Zagreus’s heart sink to hear. “Don’t worry about it. Really, please don’t. But if you do see him, can you tell him I was looking?”

“Sure, sure, I’ll keep an eye out. I’ll be surprised if you don’t run into him first, though!”

“Thank you. And I’m working on that autograph,” he added as an afterthought tossed over his shoulder as he walked off. He couldn’t help peeking around the corner into the west hall, disappointed, but not at all surprised, that Thanatos wasn’t there.

Still, Zagreus made his way around the House, greeting those who were there kindly, although he was tempted to cut his rounds short after even Orpheus asked him what was wrong. If he got one more of those  _ knowing looks _ , he felt he would go crazy.

Neither Meg nor Dusa were in the lounge, thankfully, but just as he turned to -- what? Throw himself into another escape attempt? Pace around his chambers? Even he wasn’t sure at this point -- he caught a glimpse of movement from the gardens.

At first, Zagreus hesitated. He loved his mother dearly; no one doubted that except, perhaps, Persephone herself at times. But were they close enough, at this point, for him to go to her for advice? He had a sneaking suspicion she would welcome it, if her previous comments about her track record as a mother were anything to go by. And really, who else would he go to? Nyx had been as cryptic as always in that strangely comforting way of hers. He hesitated bringing matters of the heart to Achilles or Orpheus, knowing what they had been through. Dusa, surprisingly, often had good advice, but she was elsewhere at the moment.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he stepped into the garden. It was still thriving, unsurprisingly, so much so that Persephone stood on her toes, arm outstretched, to pluck pomegranates from their trees and drop them in a basket. She didn’t see him approach at first, but once she did, her face lit up with a kind smile. “Hello, Zagreus. How was your latest trip to the surface?”

He rubbed at his neck self-consciously. “I actually didn’t make it up this time. Asterius got me pretty good.” He wondered, briefly, if Asterius would prefer people thought they fought well, rather than telling people he had granted the death that Zagreus had all but begged for, but it didn’t much matter. It wasn’t as if he could know what they spoke of, here in the middle of Tartarus. Mostly, Zagreus didn’t want his mother to know that he had just given up.

Something must have shown on his face, because her expression softened and she reached out with her free hand to grasp his shoulder. “I know you’ll get him next time. But there’s something else troubling you, isn’t there?”

“I actually wanted to ask you for advice, if that’s alright.”

Wordlessly, Persephone held out her hand, taking Zagreus’s arm when he offered it and leading them on a casual stroll farther into the garden. “Is this about Thanatos?” she asked, her tone conversational, but her volume low.

“Does everyone know about this, or are you all just very good guessers?”

“This garden may be one of the more secluded areas of the House, but you know how Hypnos’s voice carries.”

He groaned inwardly. Of course.

“What’s wrong, Zagreus? Did you two have a fight?”

“No, not exactly. It’s just . . . well, it’s a bit of a long story, I think.”

“I’m all ears,” Persephone assured. She took a seat on a bench Zagreus had never noticed before, nestled into a space between the trees close to the locked entrance to the House. She patted the stone beside her, an invitation he took with only the slightest hesitation. “We have all the time in the world, my son.”

If only that were true. Still, Zagreus explained everything: This ability he had to stave off death, the origins of which he was still unsure of; what had happened between himself and Thanatos in his bedchambers, describing the incident as vaguely as possible and feeling heat rise to his cheeks anyway; encountering him once again in Elysium and how he ran away when he discovered the bruises on his wrists. He gestured while speaking and noticed with some surprise that the bruises and their accompanying nail marks were still there. The Styx hadn’t washed them away, like they did everything else. Curious, but he’d wonder about it later.

Throughout it all, Persephone listened intently, nodding or humming every so often to show that she was still paying attention.

“Anyway,” he finished with a sigh, “Sorry to go on like this. To the point, I’m worried about him. And I’m worried that . . . well. If this is an inevitable thing, then . . . “

“I don’t think he’ll leave you over this, Zagreus,” Persephone assured, consoling the fear that he couldn’t voice. “He so clearly loves you, and this ability you have -- it’s just another part of you. A hurdle, to be sure, but one you can overcome together. I think you’re right, though. He probably just needs time. It’s scarcely been a day. Try to be patient.” She laughed a little at her own advice. “I know that’s easier said than done.”

“But I don’t even know why he’s so -- so panicked. When he does come around again, I don’t even know how to approach the topic without making it worse.”

Persephone hummed thoughtfully and took one of Zagreus’s hands in both of her own. “It occurs to me that you may not know.”

“Know?”

“Zagreus, when you die on the surface, how is it? Compared to dying anywhere else, I mean.”

He had never put much thought in it, beyond the typical frustration at not being able to stay. Of course he noticed differences, but he didn’t know what answer his mother was looking for. “Well, I can’t resist it, for one thing. I’ve tried, but whatever allows me to do it here just doesn’t work on the surface.”

“Anything else? How does it feel?”

“I mean -- not  _ good _ , but dying never does.”

“Does the Styx take you back, then?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately. Because it must, right? He didn’t feel it, like he did in any level of the underworld. Those cold tendrils of water slowly embracing him -- he was already unconscious by the time they reached him. But he always washed up the same way, shaking the blood-red water out of his hair and waiting for the bone-deep weariness of Natural Causes to subside.

Persephone actually laughed, immediately covering her mouth in apology, but she still shook with mirth. “I’m so sorry, my son. It isn’t funny.”

“I’m not following.”

“Let me ask you this: Would you call your deaths on the surface  _ peaceful _ ?”

Zagreus was perhaps starting to see what she was getting at. “No. I mean, yes, I would. There’s some pain involved, but . . . surely not?”

“It is his job.”

“But he’s so busy, and the Styx is right there. Why would he -- ?”

“Your death on the surface is categorized as ‘natural causes,’ is it not? That’s as peaceful as it gets. And.” Persephone’s smile fell, but didn’t disappear entirely, as she glanced around the garden and into the hall. “You must never speak of this in front of your father. Do you understand?”

Zagreus nodded wordlessly, taken aback by what sounded like a command.

“There is a reason the gods on Olympus fear Thanatos.”

“They fear him too?” Mortals were one thing -- although exceedingly clever, in Zagreus’s admittedly limited opinion, they could be just as foolish -- but for the likes of Lord Ares and Artemis to fear Thanatos? He’d never gotten that impression. When they mentioned him, on the rare occasions they did, it seemed more like they thought of Thanatos as broody, private, or, in Dionysis’s words, a buzzkill. Not one to be feared.

Persephone just nodded. “I did too, at first. When he first appeared at my cottage for you, I was so scared. You see . . . well . . . it wasn’t the first time he’d come for you.”

Zagreus struggled to understand what his mother was saying. Rather, he didn’t want to. She was still smiling softly, and he knew that, even though it was still somewhat painful to bring up, she never shied away from what had happened, way back then. There was a distinct sadness in her eyes, but she’d said herself that, since she discovered Zagreus was alive, losing him as an infant hurt so much less.

“No,” he breathed.

“Yes,” she insisted quietly. “You were one of the first souls Thanatos reaped on his own. He was so young at the time. He was only doing his job, but your father drove him from the House. Although, I suppose he didn’t banish him entirely like I thought. Imagine my surprise when Thanatos welcomed me back himself.”

“I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t. If the matter of your birth was a forbidden topic, don’t you think this would be as well? And I imagine it still is, which is why you must be careful if you bring it up.”

Zagreus felt as if his whole world was shaken -- not quite to the extent it had been when he’d discovered the truth about his parentage, but it was a familiar enough feeling. To think that Thanatos had never told him any of this -- about bringing him back from the surface or that he was one of his first unsupervised assignments. He swallowed thickly. Maybe talking this through with his mother was a mistake. Thanatos must have been keeping these secrets for a reason, since he’d already made clear that his loyalty was not to Hades, and Zagreus felt like he might have been better off not knowing.

“I’m sorry, mother, but I have to ask . . . do you blame him? For any of this?”

“Goodness, no! As I said, he was only doing his job.”

“Did you?”

At that question, Persephone hesitated. “I . . . I can’t say. I don’t think I really blamed anyone. It was a tragedy, to be sure, but I didn’t have the energy to be angry about it at the time.”

If she didn’t blame Thanatos for what happened, and Zagreus, who hadn’t even known about it until now, didn’t either, then did he blame himself? Thanatos was smarter than that, surely. He, above all, should know that death was the will of the Fates, and he was just the messenger, so to speak. But if he was still so young . . . 

“Why would this be bothering him now, then? If he’s been there every time?”

“Only he knows the answer to that.” Which was the exact kind of non-answer he had gotten from Nyx. “But if I had to guess, it’s not easy for him to see you die. It seems like such a simple explanation, but you know what love does to people. What Orpheus was willing to do to get Eurydice back. How Achilles reacted when Patroclus died. The lengths your father took to protect me even after I left. And,” she continued, “I think you dying or getting hurt --” she brushed a finger gently across the bruises on Zagreus’s wrist “-- because of him . . . perhaps it drags up those memories.”

Persephone stood, signalling the end of this particular discussion, and Zagreus followed her lead. “In any case, I suggest you ask next time you see him. Not outright, mind you, but I suspect there’s more to it than either of us can know.” She took his arm again and led them back to where she had been working, switching to the more casual tone she used before, so close to the doors. “So, that advice you were looking for: There’s not a god alive who isn’t haunted by something. Just be cautious approaching such subjects, and don’t force the issue. Trust your judgement.”

As much as Zagreus valued his mother’s advice, trusting his judgement was the last thing he thought he should do. It had worked out well in the past, sure, but it always had the potential to go horribly wrong. Considering how he’d driven Thanatos away last they met, he was more inclined to treat lightly.  _ Be patient _ , she had said. If there was one thing Zagreus wasn’t, it was patient, but he’d try.

“Thank you, mother,” he said graciously, truly grateful for her time and her wisdom. He’d likely never be used to learning about his own life secondhand, and a part of him wondered what other secrets he didn’t know about himself.

“Of course,” Persephone responded warmly. “Now, do you have time to help me, or is it back to work for you?”

Of course Zagreus had time. He’d never tried gardening himself, beyond the few times he had actually managed to make it to Persephone’s cottage on the surface to water the plants, but plucking fruit from the trees was easy enough. Besides, simply spending time with her filled him with a childlike joy he wasn’t willing to give up so soon.

\-----

Zagreus wasn’t typically one to take his problems to others. Not his real problems, anyway. He was so very grateful to Nyx for all of her help with his initial attempts to escape -- gifting him the mirror, getting in contact with Olympus, she had really done so much that he didn’t know how to thank her properly -- but he had never asked her to. All of the keepsakes he had been given, whether they truly gave him a boost or were simple reminders of their previous owners’ support, he cherished equally, but he never would have requested them. He recognized that he may not have ever escaped without help. That didn’t mean he was good at asking for it.

So, he sat on his bed, head in his hands and Mort beside him, as he anguished over what to do. No, forget what to do; he didn’t even know how he felt besides  _ overwhelmed _ .

He didn’t intend to call Thanatos to him, but the child’s toy gave him some measure of comfort nonetheless. Persephone had given voice to a fear he didn’t even realize he had --  _ what if Thanatos left him over this _ .

The way he simply bounced back from the brink of death. This whole time, he thought it was a choice, a trained skill. Perhaps it was, but if so, then it was one that had become so ingrained in him that he couldn’t  _ not _ do it anymore. It took Asterius two hits to take him out after he gave up. What if he couldn’t turn it off after everything? He wouldn’t ask Thanatos to put up with that. Especially since . . . 

_ Gods _ , but he didn’t want to be a source of  _ trauma _ for him. He hadn’t even known. Never imagined Thanatos had watched him die even once, never would have even considered it a big deal, really. It happened all the time, and he always bounced back, phantom pain radiating from wherever the fatal wound struck, but otherwise healthy and whole.

He’d lost count of the number of times he’d escaped already, and he didn’t dare look into the administrative chamber to put a number to the times Thanatos had  _ watched him die _ .

With a huff, he heaved himself to his feet. No use in stewing here. He’d just keep thinking in circles, and he could feel his hands twitching with nervous energy already. He might as well fight his way back to the top.

_ But _ , said a traitorous thought that stalled him in his tracks. But if he made it out, he’d just force Thanatos to his side again. Force him to see him like that. But if he went too long without getting out, would that be suspicious?

The Pact of Punishment hanging above the door -- would leaving a paper trail of failed attempts be better? He hadn’t been invoking it recently, simply trying to check off minor prophecies one by one.

Zagreus refused to overthink it anymore. His hand hovered over the butterfly brooch in his keepsakes cabinet before grabbing it decisively. Hesitated beside the Shield before taking Stygius in hand. Every condition on the Pact checked once, he jumped out the window without a second thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slaps favourite character* this bad boy can fit so much trauma.


End file.
